Rose's Protection Program
by OdysseyAvis
Summary: Rose Hathaway is a local L.A. barista just looking to enjoy her life and manage to keep her friends and secrets close to her while doing it. Unfortunately, witnessing a murder and getting involved in a drug cartel crime empire leaves her with only the FBI and their witness protection program to turn to. Rose/Dimitri with some Lissa/Christian. AH AU and may become M later.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**** Hey guys, so this is my first fic I've posted on and I'm gonna see how it rolls out. First VA fic also so I hope I can do the books justice. Hope you enjoy the first chapter!**  


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The club pulsed and thrummed with life, the music shaking the floor on every beat. It smelled heavily of a unique drug cocktail and held the distinct smell of fine, aged alcohol. The people surrounding Rose wore a heavy mix of red and black, with a few neon newbies mixed in. Everyone knew it was easier to run if you could blend in with the night. She may not approve of the things her workplace supported and provided, but it was a job that paid for everything that she required. Abe made sure to pay his employees well to keep them quiet about his… _business investments_.

One thing Rose really did hate, though, were the idiots that felt entitled to her ass as she walked across the floor delivering drinks. Like the one that was currently rubbing his greasy fingers across it now. She turned around slowly, seductively, and laid her head on his shoulder. His ragged, intoxicated breath brushed against the crook of her neck, shaking with drunkenness and arousal, making her cringe. He mistook it for something else as he squeezed tighter. "Hands off now, or I rip you hand from your arm and nail it to the floor." She crooned into his ear, then pulled back and saw his eyes widen as he scurried away. A good threat and-every once in a while-kick to the groin usually worked to scare them off. Rose sighed and rubbed her temple as she stalked back to the bar. Only eleven o' clock and she'd already had to scare off two.

"Having a rough night?" Lissa, Rose's best friend and roommate, asked as she slammed the supply room door behind her. Lissa had taken on the responsibility of making sure that the club's inventory of alcohol was always stocked to Abe's content and that all of it was put in the right place, even though Rose wished she would stay at least 10 miles away from the club at all times. But, as Lissa often reminded her, she was an adult who could make her own decisions. Go figure.

"Just some asshats getting a little too handsy. Plus Abe's having me work a couple of extra hours again." Rose sunk to the floor needing just a couple of minutes. Maybe she could sneak in five before the other barista noticed she was missing.

"You can say no to him, you know. Don't let him guilt you into it all the time." There was amusement in her voice, a teasing tone.

"He doesn't _guilt _me, Liss. He just makes sure to throw in a few extra bucks. And we need another car so… yeah." Rose had no energy to argue with Lissa about her extra hours at the moment. "Why are you even here anyway? You promised me you would only work here before the bar opened." Lissa was her only family left for her and Rose didn't want her hanging around the bar's more… _unsavory_ clientele. Lissa was surprisingly ignorant to Abe's less-than-legal business that he ran from the back alleyways of L.A. and Rose really didn't want her around if the cops decided to bust the place.

"Who else is going to keep an eye on you during clubbing hours?" Rose raised an eyebrow at her, knowing that Lissa was completely serious.

"It sure as hell ain't gonna be you." She knew that Lissa meant well, but that she couldn't help Rose fight off a fly if she got into real trouble. "Go back to the apartment, Lissa. I'll be good. And don't wait up for me." The last bottle of tequila she placed on the shelf clinked with finality as she sighed.

The worry and care that shone in Lissa's eyes always shocked Rose and made her feel loved when she looked at her. Honestly, she didn't know why Lissa still made the effort. "Make sure to kick at least one set of twigs and berries for me tonight, kay?" Rose laughed and nodded her agreement before ushering her out of the delivery entrance connected to the room. She locked the door, feeling guilty, but had to make sure that Lissa wouldn't come back. Rose didn't even know why she took the job as her family had plenty of money to support her. But Lissa insisted that she at least try to work first and only took enough to pay her share of the rent.

"Rose!" A squeaky voice called from the doorway. "Rose, you better not be taking a break! It's a shitstorm of customers out here!" Rose mentally bashed her head into the concrete wall in front of her. Why, oh why, did she have to get stuck with _her_ when she was working extra hours? Mia Rinaldi was definitely the most annoying coworker Rose had ever had. Bitchy and demeaning, she was the human representation of a rat that wouldn't die no matter how much poison you fed it. She had no idea how Lissa was ever nice to her. She had no idea how Lissa was so nice to people in general, really.

Rose dragged a bottle of the nearest alcohol off of the shelf. "Nope, no break. Just restocking on the whiskey." She lied, trying to make her voice perky.

Mia snatched the bottle from Rose's hand as she tried to pass. "That's bourbon, smart one." She said, shoving the bottle back into Rose's chest and pushing past her back into the club.

"_Bourbon then_." Rose growled. An image of a shelf collapsing on top of Mia entered Rose's mind, but even that couldn't make her smile at this point. She stayed a few moments to play out the fantasy in her mind, but got back behind the bar to make Mia's incessant screeching stop.

No matter how much it hurt Rose's poor fragile soul to admit it, Mia was right. Disgruntled customers surrounded the bar and more flocked around it in droves, shouting out their orders and insults in the same breath. "Anybody else that calls me a bitch is getting their ass thrown out on the pavement with a boot print as a new tattoo!" She shouted, shutting some of them up, but the following hours were still filled with drink spilling, ass groping, sweat smelling customers and about an hour before Rose's shift ended she about killed a guy before one of the bouncers pulled her off of him. At least she got a good nut shot in before Pauley managed to drag her away.

"I swear to God you're actually a six foot seven guy packing some serious muscles, Rosie." He tried to hide it, but the man's voice was breathy as he led Rose back across the bar and shoved Rose's offender out the door. "Seriously, what the fuck do you eat every day? Are you on steroids?"

Rose laughed, cheered up by his attempt at humor. "Sounds like you just need to get your ass back in the gym, Pauley. All the free drinks are giving you a beer gut." She poked him in his stomach, feeling nothing but solid muscle.

His eyes narrowed playfully. "You keep talking like that and I'll have to tell Abe about the incident we just had here." He threatened, but his joking tone betrayed him.

"We both know you would never do that buddy boy." Rose had had many of these-as Pauley so politely termed it-_incidents_ before. Pauley, the nice guy he was, had never mentioned one of them to Abe. Rose expressed her gratitude by using him as her guinea pig for every new drink idea she had. "Now get back to work, _son_!" She teased, deepening her voice on the last word.

The crowd was starting to slow at this point, the river of people entering the club slowing to a stream with many people exiting the doors, heels gripped in their hands as their feet stumbled across the dance floor and out the door. Unfortunately for Rose, the people left still had the asshole gene.

At the end of the bar sat a prissy, preppy looking boy that looked to be 24, Rose's age. "Hey darlin'. What'll it take to get you outta this joint and back to my place?" He flipped his black, curled hair and leaned back on his barstool, jade green eyes floating over Rose appreciatively.

What she really wanted to do was take the glass she was currently polishing and throw it at his head, but she decided to make this, what Lissa would call, a "learning experience". "Yeah, I'm not your darlin'." The glass gave an angry screech when she slammed it on the bar. "If you need one, you can go down about two blocks. Talk to Tammy, tell her Rose Hathaway sent you. She'll give you a nice first time discount. Now, can I get you anything to drink, _darlin'_?" His face was tight and Rose would've noticed the steady anger there if she wasn't so caught up in her own. If it had been earlier in the night and she hadn't had to work overtime, she probably would've dealt with his advances with a bit more tact. But one too many pissy drunks had pushed her to her tipping point.

He leaned forward, his hands now fists on the countertop and shoulders hunched towards her. "You see, Rose Hathaway, though you don't know me, I am used to getting what I want. And what I want this evening is you. So name your price so I can have you." There were some pretty forward people that Rose had dealt with, but Rose was pretty sure that Preppy Boy was hitting a new level.

"These legs aren't open for business, pal. Not even if you had two dicks and a million bucks." His mouth opened, ready to retort, until a looming figure distracted him.

"Everything good here?" Pauley asked as he sauntered over. _Took you long enough_, Rose thought.

"Get this fucker outta here, Pauley." Pauley grabbed his shoulder without a word and led Preppy Boy towards the back entrance.

"You're gonna regret this decision, Rose Hathaway." He spoke her name as if it was a threat, a knife to cut her with. Rose shivered, suddenly a bit shaken by the guy.

"Why don't you head out, Rose. I can handle the closing crowd." Rose snapped her head to the side so quickly that she'd probably have whiplash. Rose was tempted to feel Mia's forehead for a fever as she saw that it was her who spoke. "What the fuck's gotten into you?" She questioned, thinking that maybe she'd hit her head earlier and didn't remember.

Mia shrugged, her brow and mouth bending into a frown. She hesitated before speaking. "I know the feeling of being groped and threatened one too many times… in a shift. Go home and take a shower or something before I change my mind." She turned her back to Rose, shoulders hunched over the bottle of tequila she was using in her latest concoction.

Rose muttered her thanks, gathering her bag and scurrying towards the back door. The small apartment that she and Lissa shared was a few miles south of the club and Lissa had taken the car. Not that Rose minded, it was safer for Lissa and her boyfriend, Christian, would kill Rose if she made Lissa take the bus home, but the bus wasn't exactly Rose's favorite way of transportation either. She double checked her bag for the knife and gun she always carried on her and stepped out the door way into the back alley of the club.

Rose knew Abe liked to run his _business_ deals out of the alleyway, but he usually warned her to take the front entrance out so there was no chance for her to get caught in the crossfire of a meet up. Which was why she was surprised to see two groups of men huddled together in the alley, a dark sedan left running behind the group facing her. None of them were too shy to show that they were packing some heavy heat either. Everyone seemed to have a gun strapped somewhere to their body and a few were already grasping firearms in their hands, looking a little too eager to use them. These weren't the usual suspects that Abe garnered his product from. Abe probably had no idea this was going on in his own backyard.

"Shit." She whispered, summing up the situation thoroughly. She would have to go back into the bar and risk Mia having her stay for the rest of the shift. The nice Mia thing could only last for a short period time before she went back to her regular bitchy self. Not that she would rather face about ten gun-toting, drug-dealing criminals or anything, but she just _really_ didn't want to have to serve another drink tonight. She clutched for the door handle behind her, making sure not to take her eyes off of the scene playing out in front of her.

She turned the door handle. The door didn't open. She gave it a nice shove for good measure; maybe it was just a sticky lock. Yeah, the door was still a no go. Her heartbeat rushed through her ears and her palms started to sweat as she realized that there wasn't a way out.

"Double shit." Rose whispered, panic now showing in her voice. Maybe she could stay in the shadowed corner until the deal was over. The all black uniform she was required to wear to work would help her blend in. It seemed that was the only plan she could come up with. It was still a workable plan, though, right?

Rose hunkered down in the door frame, glad Abe had never bothered to replace the single burnt out light bulb that hung from a measly string hooked above the door. She examined the men of the two groups; the ones facing away from her looked, from what little light shone on them, to have darker skin. They were most likely Caza. She knew that the Caza cartel still did deals in L.A., though they had lost a lot of their empire once the Russian Dashkov cartel had moved into the city. She knew Abe closely worked with them from the snooping she had done in his office. The man really placed too much trust in his employees. Not that she would ever tell him that.

Rose froze as she spotted a familiar face in the crowd. One that she had tossed out of the bar not ten minutes ago. "_Triple shit_." Her voice was high, pitched up an octave and barely audible to her own ears. She was completely still, not daring to move an inch. Drunken assholes in a club she could handle. Even have a little fun while doing it; this was scaring her out of her mind. One wrong move and she would be taken hostage or shot. She really didn't know which was better.

She jumped as shouting sounded from all of the men, thinking they had spotted her. Relief rushed through her for a split second as the one at the center of the Caza group raised his hands. Rose couldn't hear what he was saying, but his tone was pleading, his stance open as if he was trying to make himself non-threatening.

Time seemed to slow as Preppy Boy reached into the back of his pants. He raised the gun to the group facing across from him. Anger shone in his eyes, his stance tight and to the side. The perfect stance to fire the gun in his hand. "He's a _fucking rat_, you _idiots_!" He roared.

Gunfire was loud in Rose's ears as three shots were fired into the man's chest. She could see the dark spatters across the shooter's light colored shirt, could smell the gunpowder and the blood as its metallic tang filled the air. The light of the gunfire was stamped across her eyes and sirens sounded from somewhere outside of the alley way.

"HOLY FUCK!" She hadn't meant to shout, but sometimes the human body had a mind of its own.

Preppy Boy's eyes had just enough time to meet hers before he was whisked away into the dark sedan.

The Caza didn't seem to care about her and fled the scene, leaving the man bleeding out on the ground. She ran over to him, desperate for something to do. She clutched at him, tearing off her jacket, leaving her in her tight, black uniform t-shirt. She pressed the jacket into his chest trying to staunch the bleeding, too busy to notice the armed men in FBI and DEA uniforms flooding the alleyway around her. She didn't know why she cared. She should've been running as fast as her feet could take her. They could come back and take her or shoot her or torture her. But she had to at least try to save the man in front of her.

"You're gonna be okay, you're gonna be okay." She chanted and looked into his eyes. They were blue, blank, and glassy. She didn't have a chance to cry out as she was grabbed roughly from behind and spun around. The man had his helmet off and dark, chestnut brown hair stuck out unevenly across his head.

"Who the _fuck_ are you?"

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**A/N:**** Well, did you like? And who do you think our shooter is? Our agent that grabbed Rose? Brownie points to anyone who can guess. Please review, just a few words if you want cuz I'd love to hear your thoughts. Until the next update!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:**** So I just wanted to quickly note a change for any of you who had read the previous chapter before I updated it. I the orange haired guy's hair color to dark chestnut brown since I tweaked the story line a little bit. And I wanted to warn anyone who doesn't like blood that there's going to be some semi-graphic descriptions of it, though nothing that I believe would make you sick to your stomach. Okay, enjoy!**

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The standard black GMC Denali shook slightly, siren blaring and internally built lights flashing as it swerved between lanes and tipped dangerously as it took corners. Rose was curled up in the middle seat, knees pulled tightly to her chest and hands clutching at the black leather upholstery of the seats. Her eyes dashed around the car wildly, but the only thing she could really notice was how the car smelled of pine because of an unnaturally green colored cardboard tree hanging from the rear view mirror. The fake tree swung and shook and bounced with each turn, the string worried and stretched from the jostling of the rough ride. The elastic began to fray, the pressure placed on it becoming too much until it finally gave an audible _snap!_, flying through the air to hit Rose's knee and clunk to the floor where it still continued to slide across the carpeting.

She reached for it, legs extending from their curled position and hands cramping slightly from being held in such a tight grip. She didn't want to focus on the blood that stained her black jeans, dyeing them as dark as the void of space, or the metallic, rusty scent of them that would never wash out. It curled through her nose, making her want to gag. Her clothes were heavy and her body didn't want to move. It felt like thick, freezing salt water surrounded her, slowing her movements and weighing down her limbs. The tips of her fingers were numb and her feet were tingly, as if thousands of tiny needles were stabbing them over and over again.

The sight of her blurry hands brought her to a halt; they were painted a shocking scarlet, the red standing out starkly against her almond toned skin. The painting continued up her arms, looking as if a careless, unpracticed artist had used her body as a canvas. The brushstrokes were uneven and calloused. The reds across her arms varied from a deep crimson in the thicker areas to a soft, watered down pink where the blood was barely spread. The artist had created splatters against her neck; she could feel the crusted half-dried blood and scratched at it, abandoning the tree to be bruised and knocked around on the floor.

Once she started to pick at the blood along her body, her mind seemed to wake up. She realized that shouting was ringing through the car, that the two agents sitting in the front were caught up in their own argument.

"…supposed to be guarding the door, you _idiot_!" The one in the driver's seat pounded his left fist against the window, his straight dark hair seeming to stand on end in his fury. "How the fuck did _she_ get past you?!" Rose would've been offended by his tone if she wasn't still half focused on picking blood off of herself. It gathered beneath her fingernails, her blue nail polish invisible beneath the layers of grime.

The one in the passenger's seat held his head in his hands and his voice was muffled. Rose had to strain to hear his words. "There was a fight going on in the club. I thought one of the guys had a knife!" He lifted his head now, his expression apologetic. "You know the code, whenever you see a crime taking place you have to try to stop it!"

"The code doesn't apply when you're an undercover agent, Ashford! Your _one job_ was to make sure nobody got into that back alley. You couldn't even do _that_ right! The bureau should send you back to Quantico!" Rose was pretty sure that if he hadn't been driving, his hands would have been around the other one's throat.

"Look, I'm sorry that I fucked up," The driver snorted, but put his left hand back on the wheel. "but nobody had tried to get through that door all night. It was a rookie mistake, I admit it." The car was silent except for the sound of its siren. L.A. traffic at three AM was as thinned out as it was ever going to get, so the Denali didn't have too much trouble maneuvering around the cars that hadn't pulled to the side of the road in time.

Rose was about to speak, try to get some sort of information as to where they were taking her, but the guy named Ashford beat her to it. "Why were there so many guys anyway? It was just supposed to be a quick meet between our agent and one of their higher-ups. He wasn't supposed to bring back up."

The driver hesitated. "Somebody gave his name to the Dashkov cartel." He growled, voice menacing.

Ashford's mouth gaped like a fish out of water. "But… that means… _shit_."

"Yeah. The FBI has a mole." His voice was tinged with regret, but it didn't seem as if he was surprised. "Not everyone is a crime-fighting, FBI loving person, Ashford, not even the ones that work for the Bureau. You'd best learn that now."

Rose was hesitant to continue now, afraid she would break Agent Ashford due to the shocked, almost heartbroken expression on his face. But, being Rose, she decided to interrupt the pregnant silence anyway. Her throat felt clogged and she had to clear it, startling the two Agents. "So, seeing as you two decided to drag me across some pavement and throw me into this car instead of letting me go on my merry way, I suspect you have a certain destination in mind?" Despite attempting her usual devil-may-care attitude, her voice shook and cracked; she could tell that both agents picked up on her nervousness and fear as they looked at each other. "And could you possibly turn the siren and lights off now? They're killing me."

She immediately regretted her choice of words as the sight of the limp, bleeding body of the dead agent entered her mind. His blue eyes were so clear in death, but Rose could still remember the wrinkling of crow's feet at the corners that belied the pain he experienced right before he left. She choked, her chest feeling as if it was going to explode. Her breathing became heavy and labored; Rose could only manage short pants as she stuck he head in between her knees. Her legs became a small cave and she closed her eyes, letting darkness envelop her.

"You heard the woman, Adrian. Turn that shit off. I don't even know why you had it on in the first place." She heard a seatbelt unbuckle and jerked away when a warm hand landed on her knee. "Don't touch me." She managed to bite out quickly, trying to regulate her breathing. After the night she'd had the last thing she needed was the feeling of someone else's hands on her. "I'm fine. I'll be fine." She chanted between breaths.

"We should've let the paramedics take a look at her. She's in no condition to be taken in for questioning right now."

"She might not be in _good_ condition, but we had to get her out of there. We don't know whether Caza or the Dashkov Cartel saw her. Besides, she's strong. Most civilians would be doing a _hell_ of a lot more than having a slight panic attack by now." Rose lifted her head, breathing better for now, and met the driver's brown eyes in the review mirror. She saw the corners of his mouth lift and his eyes flicker back to the road before meeting hers again. "There she is. Sorry if I scared you earlier in the alleyway, sweetheart. You just surprised me."

"Rose. My name is Rose." She said, feeling a little more normal since this man made no attempt to treat her like she was breakable.

"What, you don't like sweetheart?" Rose thought the man would've gathered that form the practiced glare she was sending his way. "Okay, no sweetheart. How about just Rosie?" She was surprised her glare hadn't burnt a hole through the mirror by now. "_Okay_, not one for nicknames obviously."

"_Obviously_." Rose growled sarcastically.

Adrian chuckled and moved his line of vision fully to the road. "Oh, I like her! Told you that she'd be fine, Ashford." He took his right hand off the wheel to punch Ashford not-so-lightly in the shoulder.

"You can call me Mason." He said while rubbing his shoulder and giving Adrian a disgruntled look. "Ashford's my last name."

Now that she got a closer look at him, Mason looked to be about her age; she thought that most undercover FBI agents were much older. Adrian, however, looked to be in his early thirties, though Rose had to admit that he was an attractive early thirty.

"Hey look kiddos, we're here!" Adrian practically bounced out of the car, as if they had just arrived at some long-anticipated vacation spot.

"I don't appreciate that nickname either." Rose said while she unbuckled and looked out her window. They had pulled up to a tall, black, nondescript square building. She knew the type instantly; it was exactly the type her mother worked out of in D.C. and Virginia. She hated buildings like this, they only reminded her of the mother that she lost to the CIA. It wasn't the FBI that she hated though, so it's not like she wasn't willing to cooperate.

Despite it being so late, many of the office lights lit up the sides of the buildings, highlighting the other cars in the lot. Almost all of them were some sort of standard cop car, ranging from Crown Victorias, Camaros, and more Denalis, and painted in either white and blue or plain, midnight black.

Mason hesitantly opened the door for her, holding his hand out for her to grasp onto. She ignored it as she stepped out, still disgruntled that they had taken her here while giving her no information.

"C'mon Princess." Apparently Adrian wasn't going to stop with the nicknames. He prodded her from behind, making her stumble towards the building.

"I have rights. You can't hold me if you don't think I'm a suspect in a crime case." Despite her words, she kept walking.

Adrian snorted. "You'd be right on that account, but I'm guessing you don't want to be found by a drug cartel and taken hostage and/or shot on sight. If you'd rather do that, you're free to leave." Well, he had her there. Rose crossed her arms and continued to follow Mason while Adrian walked beside her.

As they entered the building, Rose heard her shoes squelching. She looked down and froze. The imprints of her black keds were written across the white tile flooring in blood, showing every ridge and circle etched into the shoeprint. The image of the gun firing and the man falling to the pavement entered her mind again. A small noise involuntarily escaped her throat, though she didn't notice. "Don't worry about it, happens all the time. The janitors will get it." Adrian's voice was soft in her ear as he placed a firm hand on her back, leading her forward gently.

The tile changed to short, practical gray carpeting as they entered the room at the end of the hallway. Rose was grateful that all of the blood had seemed to leak from her shoes by now. A secretary sitting at a desk was the second thing Rose noticed. Her mouth fell open as she saw Rose. "Hello Karen, could you please get some new clothes for this lovely young woman and notify the janitors that there is a, uh, _mess_ to clean up." He looked behind him. "You may also want to tell them to bring the heavy duty cleaners. And close your mouth, Karen; you're going to catch flies." With his comment the secretary shook her head, closed her mouth, and scurried off towards the closest elevator. Adrian sighed melodramatically. "Good secretaries are so hard to find these days." Mason just shook his head and led them towards a room with a large oval table and several chairs scattered around it. The walls and door were glass, so everything could be seen. This comforted Rose for some reason.

"Here." Mason pulled out a chair at the closest end of the table. It was one of the nice ones with wheels and comfortable padding. It had dark blue upholstery with black leather armrests.

Rose hesitated. "I'm pretty sure you don't want me staining a perfectly good chair." She said, though she was dying to sit down again; it felt as is her body was made of lead.

Adrian waved his hand in the air and pushed her down into the chair. "The good taxpayers of California can afford to replace one chair." Rose just shrugged and settled into the chair, thanking Adrian and the good taxpayers of California as she did.

Mason and Adrian also took seats at the opposite end of the table. Rose appreciated the space but also felt like this was going to turn into an interrogation. She sat up straighter, squaring her shoulders and wiping her face of emotion. Mason checked his watch impatiently, waiting for something. "They'll be here soon. I notified them before we left."

"Who? Who'll be here soon?" Rose questioned, keeping her voice even but desperate for information. She already knew that they didn't consider her a suspect in anything but she also knew that they would want information.

"That's not the most important thing at the moment." Adrian spoke, his playful air now gone. He opened a small drawer attached to the belly of the table and retrieved a notepad and pen. "Rose, I'm just going to ask you a few simple questions, okay? And I need you to cooperate; no withholding information and no lies. Just answer the questions as fully as possible."

"Okay. No problem." Rose could do this. She was always taught that law enforcement buildings were some of the safest places in the world. So why didn't she feel it?

"Full name?"

"Rosemarie Hathaway." She hated having to give her last name in case they discovered her relation to her mother.

"Birthplace?"

"Washington D.C."

"Place of work?"

"Mazur's…" Rose was getting a little peeved. "…can't you get all of this information if you put my name into the FBI database or one of your magical people finding programs?" Rose questioned, realizing now that when Adrian said simple questions, he really meant _simple questions_.

Adrian chuckled and Mason rolled his eyes at his antics. "Well, you're a quick one. I'm just stalling for time and trying to make you a little more comfortable. Plus we'd like to give you a chance to tell us about yourself before your life is stripped bare and we find out everything about you and everyone who's ever been involved with you in any way shape or form." Adrian shrugged and gave Rose a slick smirk.

Rose smirked right back, unphased by this man. She'd grown up around her Uncle Stan who was probably the most intimidating person currently living. "Go look up my name if you want. My record is squeaky clean, not even a speeding ticket. Unless you count a couple of suspensions in High School for fighting." If you counted breaking an arm and two noses as just plain fighting. "So how about you shove your FBI intimidation tactics up your-" Rose was cut off by Karen entering with a pile of clothes and five bottles of water.

"Why thank you, Karen. The water is much appreciated, though the delivery could have been a bit more timely." Karen nodded and scurried away, seemingly scared of Adrian.

"Why are you such an asshole?" Mason asked, but Adrian was cut off from answering as the door opened again.

Now, Rose wasn't really the kind of girl to be attracted to _any_ member of _any _sort of law enforcement agency, whether it be a low-level cop or Adrian's kind, but _hell_, the man that just entered the room was an exception if she ever saw one. Her eyes widened as she took in his height, at least a foot taller than her already 5" 7' frame. His eyes shone a deep chocolate brown and his hair matched them. The long, chin-length locks looked messy and ruffled, as though he had just rolled out of bed. Rose decided that the look suited him as it accentuated his chiseled jaw line. His dimpled chin led to perfectly proportioned lips. He did have a crooked nose, as if it had been broken one too many times, but it just made her want to run her fingers along the bridge of it and into the stubble of his unshaven face.

His chocolate eyes flickered quickly over her blood stained form before moving to Adrian. "Do you have her file yet?" Adrian looked imploringly at Mason, who sighed and moved to a computer outside of the room.

Rose was just a little bit insulted that he didn't give her any more thought. "What, no "Hello, my name is so-and-so, what's yours?"

The man's mouth lifted at the corner briefly before settling back into a straight line. "Well, I can learn that from Adrian here, can't I?" His voice was deep and musky, and it gave Rose goose bumps along her arms.

"C'mon, not even a "Sorry you saw someone get shot and die, that must've ruined your evening?" Rose was trying to seem unaffected by what she saw, but all it earned her was more gruesome images flashing through her head. She screamed internally, trying to ward the images off, and almost didn't mind them when she saw that her commentary had given her a full blown half smirk from mister tall dark and handsome.

"Sorry you saw someone get shot and die, that must've ruined your evening. My name is Agent Dimitri Belikov, what's yours?"

His joking manner made Rose relax slightly. "Rose Hatha-"

"Sorry I'm late, I had to deal with a, uh, family issue." A tall, black haired man strode in, his ice blue eyes locked on the phone he was currently texting on at lightning speed. "So what exactly happ-"

"Christian?!" Rose shouted, utterly shocked that her best friend's boyfriend had just entered an FBI building. That, apparently, he was an FBI agent according to the badge that had been carelessly tossed around his neck. "When did this… How did this… What the fuck?!"

He looked up at her, his eyes widening. "Well, shit. This is a problem." He said, his voice completely calm as he stared at her.

"Yeah, it's a _problem_!" Rose shouted, rising from her chair and stalking over to him. "You've been with Lissa for over two goddamn years and you haven't told me that you're in the FBI?!"His face finally started to show more signs of panic, his cheeks flushing a deep pink. "Oh my God have you even told Lissa?!" Christian's eyes flickered to the floor guiltily. "You haven't even told her?!" Rose placed her chest right up to his and stood on her tiptoes to look him in the eyes. "So help me God, Christian, if you break her heart with _this_," She gestured wildly, noticing that Adrian and Dimitri had moved closer to their little powwow. "even your precious FBI won't be able to keep you safe." She hissed, and flung off the restraining hand that Adrian had placed on her shoulder.

"Threatening an FBI agent can get you quite a few years in the slammer, sweetheart." Rose stalked away from Christian to the other side of the glass room, glaring out the window and choosing a Crown Victoria to take her anger out on.

"I don't see any of you making a move to arrest me." She turned around and saw that Dimitri now held a manila folder in his hand; one that most likely held anything they wanted to know about her life. He flicked through the papers, his face betraying nothing. She also noticed the car keys that dangled from Adrian's hands and that all of the agents looked ready to go. "We're leaving already? Don't I at least get to change and shower first? I was just starting to get used to the hospitable atmosphere."

"Yeah, we can't stay here no matter how much you like it. And turns out we don't have a shower." Rose was prodded towards the door, Mason and Christian in front of her and Dimitri and Adrian following.

"So bringing in blood-soaked witnesses "happens all the time" and you don't have a shower?"

"So I lied, shoot me. Besides, you can shower at the safe house."

"Safehouse?"

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**A/N****:**** Just wanted to let you guys know to not expect such quick updates in the future. I just had two free days and was able to write this and like how it turned out without a ton of editing. I would also like reviews on whether or not you think that anyone is OOC? I think that I'm writing everyone pretty well but I like to hear what you guys think. Until next time!**

**Edit: Also, for anyone who is still clueless as to who Preppy Boy is, if you want a hint, it's a genderbent character if you would still like to guess.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: ****Hey guys, sorry about the wait! I could give you excuses but you don't want to hear them, so enjoy this chapter! There'll be a longer A/N at the end of this.**

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"Why couldn't we have taken a bigger car?" Rose had her arms crossed against her chest and her legs crossed carefully on her seat. They were in the same standard Denali as before, but being wedged between Mason and Christian, two guys within the range of six feet and some change, didn't leave her much room for breathing.

"What did you want us to go with? A big white van? We'd be out of business before we could count how many Mexicans _aren't _in this car." Adrian snorted, satisfied with himself.

Rose dragged her hands down her face to resist unbuckling her seatbelt, jumping into the front passenger seat, and strangling him until there was some ample fear instilled into him. Her hands flexed repeatedly in her lap; she just needed a little release, a way to get rid of the red tinted images strewn across the surface of her brain and the emotions broiling in the pit of her stomach and running through her veins. A low growl rumbled in her chest, but she wanted to do so much more; to scream, to cry, to punch and kick and toss and turn and just _lose control_.

Adrian turned to Dimitri in the driver's seat, worry plastered plainly across their faces; Rose wasn't trained to handle trauma and they had honestly expected her to break down by now. Dimitri gripped the steering wheel tightly and went over all of the details that Adrian had given him. Adrian and Mason had recounted the grisly scene to Christian and Dimitri while they had forced Rose to wait in the car. Christian was surprised when Rose complied with only an angry tug of her hair and a few expletives. The usual difficulty levels of his girlfriend's best friend should have been much higher than that.

Christian had held his head in his hands and kicked at the Denali's tires until Dimitri had told him to get himself together or he would kick Christian off of the case, that he shouldn't even be allowing him any details or supervising role in the first place. Mason looked at his partner with worry and pulled at the dog tag chain hanging around his neck. It was his fault, all his fault that Rose, a girl who he didn't know but who was already growing to like, had stumbled into the situation. She should've been at home, sleeping or drinking or hanging out with her alleged roommate that Christian was seeing. She should've been, well... _not there_.

Dimitri's mouth had been set in a grim line during the whole recounting; from the alert that the cartel had found out that the DEA agent was a rat to Rose's arrival at the FBI building. Though Adrian hadn't bothered to call the supervisor of the L.A. scene, Dimitri had; he did it before he left his house to meet Adrian. She'd given Dimitri all control for at least the next few days, seeing as she was in D.C. discussing their latest solved cases with the FBI Director. Dimitri hadn't been happy.

He had graduated top of his class at Quantico, so he should've had his pick of jobs coming out of the program. He'd requested a D.C. assignment. It was easiest to work up to the top from there. Instead, the FBI had decided that his "talents" would be better suited for L.A. at the moment, where the majority of the crimes-and cartels-were located. His only goal now was to convince them that he was the perfect fit for D.C. and that they'd made a mistake sending him to L.A. He would work his way up to Director all in due time once he was transferred.

He'd been striving for what he wanted, putting in the extra hours, solving the cases, sending the bad guys away with the maximum sentences and even a death row order or two. And he'd finally gotten what he wanted. He was due for a transfer to D.C. any day now and didn't need a case to drag on and keep him from his promotion. So, as he'd stalked toward the L.A. headquarters, he'd been prepared to wiggle out of the case in any way possible.

Until he'd seen her.

He could see her through the glass walls, surprisingly not huddled up in a crying ball in the corner as he had expected her to be. Instead, she was sitting rigidly in a chair, covered head to toe in blood, with an angry smirk planted across her full, rosy pink lips. Her rust crusted fingernails gripped the black leather armrests tight, the muscles in her arms twitching; Dimitri had an idea that she wasn't gripping them because she was scared, but because she was restraining herself from flying across the room at Adrian. As he took in her determined posture, so opposite of what he had been prepared for, he felt his heart start and an urge to protect her settled itself deep in his belly.

"Exactly how long is driving to this "_safe house_" going to take?" Dimitri was snapped out of his reverie as Rose broke the silence. Her fingers were still miming quotation marks in the air when his eyes snapped to hers. On the surface, they were angry and annoyed with her current situation, but under it he could see a steady tiredness forming, one that occurred in even the most hardened FBI agents over time and happened because of all the things they had seen, all of the secrets that they had to keep.

"That's classi-" Christian attempted to answer for him, but was met by Rose slapping a hand over his mouth.

"You don't get to speak." She growled, low and menacing, continuing to look piercingly at Dimitri. Christian shoved her hand away, crossed his arms and turned to stare out at the lights flashing by them on the freeway, but, thankfully, didn't give her one of his usual sarcastic retorts.

As Christian was about to tell Rose, the information _was _classified. Dimitri just didn't know if he had the will to keep everything from this blood covered woman before him. _Fuck _he had to get his head back in the game. "That's classified." He ground out and held his ground as fire flashed in her brown eyes.

Rose leaned forward, placing her hands on the black top of the space between him and Adrian. If she gripped it any harder her short fingernails were going to pop through the leather. "Look," She began, trying to keep her calm and be non-threatening. Not that she believed she could intimidate all four of them at once. "I have been through hell tonight. I just want this _one fucking piece _of information. I'm not even asking you where we're going."

He hesitated. "That's classified." Dimitri winced as he said it and at his words she finally screamed in frustration.

"I just want to know this one fucking thing!" She punctuated each word with her right fist slamming into the side of Adrian's seat. "_Goddammit_!" She screamed, then curled her knees to her chest and buried her face into her thighs. _You're not gonna cry, Rose. __**You are not going to cry**_. She thought to herself, but even as she fought against the moisture forming in her eyes, hot tears began to stream down her cheeks to further stain her jeans. But she wouldn't let her shoulders shake, wouldn't let a sniffle escape her nose. She still had to have control over _something_.

"About two hours." She raised her head to stare Adrian in the eyes, even if hers were red rimmed and goopy.

"What?" She croaked, her throat thick with unshed tears and held back sobs.

"Until we reach the safe house. About two hours." Dimitri's hands tightened on the steering wheel and Christian and Mason gave Adrian shocked glances. Dimitri smacked him roughly on the shoulder, but Adrian just shrugged.

"Thank you." Rose whispered. Adrian nodded and turned forward silently. Rose buried her head back into her thighs and shrugged off a comforting arm that Christian had offered. The quiet sounds of the car's movement and the men's breathing quickly lulled her into an uncomfortable sleep.

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Rose woke to a gentle shaking of her shoulder and shallow sunlight shining through the windshield of the car. "C'mon sweetheart, time for you to get all that blood off of ya." Rose groaned and tried to crack her eyes open, but they were puffy and crusted from her tears that she had produced while she was sleeping. She didn't have the strength to correct the use of his nickname of her.

"Do you want me to carry you?" Adrian chuckled deeply as she swatted his hands away.

"Fuck no." She heard low laughter coming from other bodies, indicating that all four of them were waiting for her before they entered the house. Rose groaned again and scooted out of the car. Her feet felt shaky underneath her and she leaned against the car, trying to get her bearings. She took a few steps forward and her knees decided to betray her.

The ground rushed up to meet her, but warm arms caught her around the waist before she could face plant. "Just take it easy. Take it easy." Dimitri whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her previously non-functioning body. Soft brown hair brushed against her cheekbone before he pulled away and set her firmly back on solid ground, still hovering closely. Apparently, her legs got the kick start that they needed as she was able to make her way towards the safe house. If you could call the thing a house.

"Why the hell is my safe house a fucking mansion?" From what she could make out, the carefully built structure stood three stories high with old, weathered brick being the main wall material. A garden-which could honestly use a little grooming- surrounded the house and the land seemed to go on for miles. Rose wasn't comforted by the lack of other buildings in the area. She had grown used to the city, to the endless noise and copious amounts of people that she had depended on to comfort her. Now, all she could hear were crickets chirping in the long grass and the soft wind rustling the trees.

A hand nudged her forward , towards the entrance to the house. The large double doors were painted a brilliant shade of crimson and Rose cringed away from them as Mason opened the door for her. "We needed someplace rural and big enough for all four of us." Was all of the information Dimitri offered.

The first room was small and had dark tile flooring that would hide any mud-or various outside materials-that entered the house before they could be cleaned up. To the right, a twisted wrought iron staircase led to the second floor, while short hallways were in front of her and to her left. All options were dark on the other side. The house smelled musty, like no one had bothered to even come in for a long while.

Rose shook her head once she realized what Dimitri had said. "Woah woah woah, what do you mean by _all _of us? I was expecting to be abandoned to a wooden shack sitting in a field with some crack pot, burn out, rent-a-goon cop who doesn't know an AK from a Twenty Two." Rose froze and jerked away from the hands that were trying to push her up the stairs. "So why do I get all four of you?" She placed her hands on her hips took turns glaring at them.

She swore that she heard a soft, frustrated sigh escape Dimitri's lips before her motioned to the others. She wasn't going to make this easy for him, was she? "You're a... special case." Well what was that supposed to mean? "Sweep the house. Mason and Christian, take this floor while we take Rose upstairs." Rose offered only a token of resistance before she let Dimitri lead her up the staircase. Adrian carefully followed behind her, one hand on his gun and one hovering behind her back, ready to catch her. He was impressed by and appreciated her bravado, so similar to what he would have done, but could tell through the slump of her shoulders and drooping eyes that she was exhausted.

Rose heard Dimitri murmur to Adrian, but was really too tired to care at this point. She just wanted to rid herself of the dead man's blood that had invaded every crack, crevice, and pore of her body. Adrian slung an arm around her shoulder, effectively startling her. "Let's go sweetheart, there's a shower just up the hall." A short trek and two turns later, with a little groping of the wall to find the light switch, they had stepped into a cavernous bathroom. Adrian muttered something about grabbing her new clothes and slipped out. Rose quickly shut the door and locked it behind her, not trusting any of the agents farther than she could throw them.

She trailed her hands over the speckled granite of the countertops, flakes of blood tracking her progress. Red smears marked the glassy silver of the sink and faucet. She sighed as she took in the shower; two showerheads protruded from the walls and a large, oval shaped one grew from the ceiling. She shed her clothes, which fell with a wet smack to the floor, and stepped in. The stream was cold as she turned it on, bringing her out of her half awake state. As it warmed, she moaned, enjoying the jets as they soothed her sore flesh. The water streaming down her body turned from a red, to a soft pink, and finally clear as she massaged her head with the lone bar of soap located in the shower.

"The clothes are outside the door! Come down as soon as possible!" Adrian shouted, accompanied by his fist pounding against the door. She shouted her consent and let herself get lost to relaxation for another few minutes, not caring if they had to wait. More pounding against the door signaled that her time was up.

She knew that she would have to go down there and recount everything that she saw, heard, maybe even smelled that night. She restrained herself from smacking her head against the wall or running over to the bathroom window and jumping out of it stark naked. She should've just ran instead of trying to help the nameless officer. Her help didn't matter anyway, he was still dead. His family would never know the full story, only that it was an FBI op gone wrong. If his family even knew that he was in the FBI.

"Come on princess, we're burnin' daylight!" Rose growled and shut the shower off, hurrying over to the door. She opened it to a smirking Adrian and smirked as his face glazed over as he took in her body. "Thanks for the clothes." She said as she snatched them out of his hands and threw them on her body. They were a little baggy, but would work.

She opened the door again and breezed by Adrian who still stood stock still near the door. She turned around and placed her balled up fists on her hips. "Come on princess, we're burnin' daylight!" She echoed and ran down the dimly lit hall.

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**A/N:****Hi, yeah, I know that you're probably mad at me for the semi-cliffhanger, especially after the long wait, but I had to split this up into two parts. And I promise that you'll get the next chapter within the next three days since I already have part of it written and virtually nothing to do during that time. I just really wanted to get another chapter to you guys and there would've been an even longer wait if I hadn't done this now. I hope you all liked it! Please use just a moment of your time to drop me a review. Until next time!**


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